


We Don't Have to Give Up Just Yet

by brightbulbs



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gen, Past Sexual Assault, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightbulbs/pseuds/brightbulbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey tries to hightail it out of the Milkovich house of horrors, but seeing Mandy bloody and bruised leaves him stunned. After recovering from his momentary shock, he takes Mandy with him. (Gap-filler between episode 4x09 and 4x10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Have to Give Up Just Yet

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to explore the moments between Mandy and Mickey from 4x09 to 4x10, so I hope this is a suitable exploration of that. The title is from Violence by Against Me!

Mickey doesn't do this. He doesn't run like this, _not like this_ , and it goes against everything he has ever believed in and stood for to run. His thoughts race and heart pounds in his chest real hard, making it hard to breathe. He's felt like this before, panic rising in him and holding him hostage for days. He's sought momentary relief in juvenile detention halls and in decrepit buildings; buildings where he enjoyed his solitude until someone in the periphery of his vision had him flinching, startled. It was Ian - it was always him, and when he came into full view Mickey would sigh deeply in relief. Maybe that's what gave him the courage to do this, if you could call it courage. Running wasn't meant to be brave.

But.

It was the reassurance that at the finish line of this horrible race, Ian would be there to welcome him in open arms. To hold him, and tell him he's won. That made it worth it, and fuck how weak that made him. He was scared, and he had no time to consider the costs to his reputation and he didn't care. He couldn't when with each step he took up the stairs to the front door of the Milkovich home, he felt hands around his throat, knees pressing firmly against his chest holding him down, and the metal of a gun against his forehead. He wished he could bury it, but it wasn't just a mere memory of past harm done, but a promise and a threat of what was to come.

The words rung in his head - _what's your father going to say when he gets out of jail and I tell him you spend every day with orange boy rubbing your dicks together?_

It's not so much what he would say, but what he would do. They all know that, and the baby in Svetlana's arms is proof of that. He's mad at himself because he got too comfortable, and he let down his guard. It makes him angry that someone so small and fragile could remind him of how powerless he really is. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he pushed the door open and readied himself, knowing the obstacle course he was about to navigate just to leave. 

.

Kenyatta lumbered his way towards the door, as Mickey stepped through the threshold. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked ahead of him paying no attention to the panicked Milkovich. 

"Hey, you find Gallagher?" Mickey asks casually, trying to keep his tone relaxed so as not to draw attention to himself. It wasn't like it really mattered, though. The tall man stewed in his rage, knocking into Mickey as he walked past causing Mickey to stumble back. The action did nothing to quell his anxiety, and Mickey found himself in a moment of disbelief. Fuck, he hated this place.

"Yeah, excuse you. Asshole." 

Again, like it mattered. Like anyone actually paid attention to him at all in this shit hole. He supposed part of him should be relieved, as it made it easier for him to hide. It made it easier for him to leave. Yet, a part of him hated the fact that this place seemed to be crowded with people he barely knew lately, as if this was some sort of squatter's abandoned building and not a home. That this place didn't belong to them anymore, and maybe it never did except for in quiet moments when it was just the three of them: Mandy, Ian, and himself. His eyes looked over the living room. What was once filled with gaming, and snack foods, and excuses to be close was now replaced with a wailing baby and a drunken Russian prostitute. Beer bottles sat beside baby bottles, the beer bottles empty and the baby bottle almost full. 

"You watch baby?" Raisa slurred, and Mickey looked down at the screaming newborn. The baby's legs kicked out in distress. Mickey's eyes glazed over, giving him the appearance of calm on the surface, though he was far from it. 

"No."  

.

Mickey couldn't let himself think about it, not wanting anything to tie him to this place. He brushed his hands through his hair and emptied a pillow case, intent on filling it with all that he'd need. He threw his clothes inside, and made his way to the bathroom. That picture of Ian was still there, sitting inside that magazine. He opened the door without thinking, usually knocking on the door first to make sure no one is inside. 

He was so focused, and robotic. Nothing could stop him, and nothing would stop him from making it to the finish line. Or that's what he thought, until what stood on the other side of the door shocked him back to reality. Seeing it, he took a step back, the horror overwhelming him. 

' _Fuck_ ' He mouthed, but no sound came out.

.

Mandy reeled back from the mirror, her hands shaking when the door swung open suddenly. Mickey took it all in quickly - the blood in the sink, the washcloth in her trembling hands, and Mandy's eye swollen shut. Almost as quick, Mandy realized who it was and moved to slam the door shut. 

"The fuck you lookin' at?"

The biting words were typical for a Milkovich, but Mandy's voice could barely carry the attitude to properly deliver it. As the door slammed shut in Mickey's face, his heart beat faster and a wave of guilt hit him. It didn't take him long to connect the dots, with Kenyatta storming out of there and his earlier mission to destroy the older Gallagher brother, he knew who the culprit was. It's not like he hadn't seen his sister like that before, especially with his dad speedballing, but he never felt so complicit in the wrongs done to her.

He cursed his lack of foresight, feeling selfish, and careless with his words - _you plannin' on giving a beat down to every man Mandy's been with, your arms are gonna get fuckin' tired_  - but he never expected Kenyatta would use those arms to hurt her. His heart beat faster and faster, and he breathed in and out, short and stilted. 

With the pillow case in his hand, he couldn't afford to sit around and think about it. He had to make a decision.

.

It had always been the three of them, and it will always be the three of them.

"Ian wants to see you." He lied, though it likely wasn't untrue. Ian cared about his sister, and Mickey knew that. He was almost jealous of that fact, considering how comfortably they would sit around and talk and play fight and laugh. 

"He shouldn't see me like this." Mandy's grip tightened and loosened around his hand involuntarily as they made their way to the Gallaghers, a five minutes' walk. Mandy let go of his hand to readjust the straps of her backpack on her shoulder. It was stuffed with her uniform and clothes and makeup, but not much else. 

"I can walk by myself" She asserted, and Mickey reluctantly let her. It's not that he didn't trust that she could, but that with each step he could breathe better. With each step, he was that much closer. He was afraid that if he let go, he'd leave her behind just like he almost did moments before, intent on grabbing his things and leaving as soon as possible. With her hand pulled away, he tried to slow down and take deep breaths to calm himself.  

Mandy did her best to cover up what she could, but her split lip and swollen eye stung with the littlest touch of her makeup brush. She would have to wait until the swelling went down to appropriately cover it. For now, she let her hair fall over her face as they walked side by side and it was enough to keep the cool air from stinging her skin. She didn't need to hold her brother's hand like they were little kids again. It was insulting, and she wasn't going to let anyone steal her dignity. Still, it felt good for a moment; reassuring her that she hadn't been forgotten. That she wouldn't be abandoned by yet another family member.

They made it to the back steps of the Gallagher house. Mandy hid behind Mickey as he knocked on the door. 

"I got it." They heard a familiar voice behind the door, and both let out a sigh of relief. The door opened, revealing Ian on the other side of it. "Hey!"

Ian had a way of greeting them with a welcoming energy and warmth they weren't used to, but it felt good. The smile on Ian's face fell, as he took in the two Milkoviches before him. He motioned for them to get inside, and guided them upstairs. 

.

Mickey stood in the Gallagher bathroom, brushing his teeth. He heard Ian talking in the bedroom across the hall, which elicited a few reluctant laughs from his sister. As he opened the door, he saw the red headed boy rub her arm and kiss her forehead. Mandy smiled at the contact, holding a plate of food in her hands. It was grilled cheese, the bread nearly burnt, just the way she liked it. The scene calmed him. 

"Hey" Mickey leaned against the frame of the door, and they both turned their attention to him. He felt awkward, disrupting the energy in the room. "I'm heading to bed."

"Okay" Ian said softly, smiling gently at him. His thumb brushed Mandy's hand pack and forth soothingly. "I'll be there."

Mickey made his way down the hall to Ian's shared bedroom. He placed a pillow on the floor, along with a few blankets, and took his place on the floor. Exhausted, he fell asleep within minutes, unable to wait for Ian. He woke an hour later with Ian kneeling beside him, a hand on his chest shaking him carefully. Ian knew Mickey didn't like being woken up suddenly, and so he tried to be as careful as possible. 

"Mandy's asleep" Ian whispered when Mickey's eyes focused in on him, now fully awake. "What are you doing on the floor?"

.

Ian looped his arm low around Mickey's waist, as Mickey settled against him with his back against Ian's chest. His warm breath against his neck relaxed him, as the wind picked up outside. It reminded him he had a place here, away from the cold and away from what scared him most. Ian's fingers stroked his abdomen just as they had stroked Mandy's hand a moment before. It made him feel safe and secure, but at the same time he didn't feel helpless and weak like this. It made him feel stronger somehow, making him feel well-rested and ready to fight another day each morning.

Ian had that effect on him, making all the bad shit just go away if only for a moment. Mickey wonders if Mandy felt the same, being able to let her guard down like that and falling asleep beside him and in these moments, he realizes he hasn't felt surer that Mandy was his sister. That Mandy would never be someone he could easily let go of. That it will always be the three of them: Mandy, Ian, and himself.


End file.
